


95 lbs of punk

by stuckyofficial



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Concerts, M/M, fuckin dorks, pre serum steve - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4377974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckyofficial/pseuds/stuckyofficial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>steve gets tipsy & maybe cries about a band</p>
            </blockquote>





	95 lbs of punk

**Author's Note:**

> a bitchday present for captainsteveroses on tumblr! go follow them for real ok wow

So far, it seems like Steve really wasn't kidding when he said they’d needed to be here a few hours earlier (they were ‘late’ as Steve had reminded him bitterly in the last few minutes of their car ride). The lot in front of the stage was absolutely packed with people, mingling and huddling into cliches and larger groups. The noise was already mind-numbing, Bucky figures it isn't going to get any better once the concert actually starts. He follows Steve around the crowd while he searches for a place to settle, and simply drops the folding chairs and cooler he’d been lugging around on the outskirts when their spot is declared.   
“You know, you really are a little punk for making me carry everything.” Bucky grumbles, bending to set up one of the chairs.   
“Yep, sure am, that's why I’m here. At a concert. You got me, Buck.” the blonde retorts, setting up his own chair and flopping down into it without the slightest hint of grace. Bucky can't help but laugh a bit at the huff of breath that's knocked out of him from it.   
“Sure do, I always have you all figured out, y’know.”   
“Shut the hell up, Buck.” Steve says, smile betraying his faux irritated tone. “Here.”   
Bucky almost drops the beer that's tossed at him while he's looking around, and he swears Steve was probably aiming at his head because the water clinging the to bottle sprays him right in the face. Okay, so he probably wasn't really aiming for his head, but still. 

 

It takes an hour and a half for the concert to actually start, and by then they've gone through half a cooler of beer and Steve is a little tipsy? Bucky's actually not sure if it's that or he's just happy the band’s actually started. Problem is, he's almost too short to see from the middle of the crowd. It doesn't really seem to bother him at first, when they hype hasn't seriously set in for anyone yet (there's still lots of screaming that's making him a bit uncomfortable, though). After the third song, Bucky has Steve standing in front of him and wrapped up in his arms, and as soon as it's over sets his hands on the blonde’s tiny waist and lifts him up.   
“--what are you doing?” Steve sputters, looking down at him with a frown.   
“Putting you on my shoulders, obviously.” It wasn't really obvious, and it takes them a bit of uncomfortable looking maneuvering to get Steve perched where he needed to be. There, now he should be able to see just fine. 

 

The rest of the concert is a blur of adrenaline with a dash of Steve getting teary about how much he likes this music and also almost toppling off Bucky’s shoulders on multiple occasions. His multitude of bracelets have rubbed a raw spot on Bucks cheek too, but he doesn't say anything. When it's finally over, Steve let's himself down off his perch and circles around front to pull the brunette down into a messy kiss. Neither complain until the connection breaks, and Bucky grins to both himself and all 95 pounds that's been sitting up on his shoulders for three hours.   
“That's all I get for carrying you?” He teases, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulders to keep him from getting bumped around by the departing crowd.   
“I dunno, that depends on whether we can get home before I pass out or not.”   
“Oh, really?” Bucky counters, stuffing their stupid chairs they hardly even used back into their respective carry bags.   
“Yep, thems the facts, Buck-o.” 

That's enough motivation to hurry the hell up and get home.


End file.
